


you steal me away

by quinnking



Series: serpent riverparents [5]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, but like it's very minor, fp likes to eat alice out, i guess there's a bit of a hint of bottom/sub fp?, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14599197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnking/pseuds/quinnking
Summary: "I get this," he says after a moment, nosing his way to the apex of her thighs under the fluff of her skirt. "This... is a privilege."





	you steal me away

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a post on tumblr and just.... had to write something. smut, obviously. specifically fp's love of eating alice out. but very minimal. touch by daughter reminds me of these two disasters. 
> 
> follow me on twitter: tnystarks  
> follow me on tumblr: madchen-amick

_and feed me, spark me up - a creature in my blood stream chews me up_

* * *

 

"You ditched me, Alice," F.P. hisses to her once she comes through the front door of his trailer. "You ditched me for... _him."_

He knows that she and Hal aren't celibate, that  _F.P._ is the side-piece here. But, what they have is real. What she has with Hal is just... beneficial. And he highly doubts Hal can satisfy Alice the way he can. Call it possessive, but F.P. just thinks of it as fact.

She snorts and crosses her arms over her chest, but she doesn't respond.

"You can be a real asshole, Ali," F.P. mutters. 

He can see her pouting out of the corner of his eye. He's angry, but he's also turned on and she smells so damn good and  _looks_ so delectable. No. Angry, he's angry. 

They sit in silence on his couch for a few moments before she puts her hand on his knee. 

"How long are you going to be mad at me?" she asks, voice low and sexy in his ear.

He pretends to think on it. "Ten minutes," he deduces, because he never can stay mad at her long. Especially not when she's sitting that close to him. "It'll go by quicker if you let me eat you out." 

Her eyebrows raise in surprise. "But you're m-"

"Yeah, and it'll cheer me up." 

Her mouth thins and her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "But what do  _you_ get out of it?" 

He smirks at her, sinks to his knees and parts her legs. He trails his hands over her calves, up her thighs and under her, and then he brings he pulls her down. She gasps but goes down anyway, and he leaves kisses on her bare thigh. 

"I get this," he says after a moment, nosing his way to the apex of her thighs under the fluff of her skirt. "This... is a privilege." He brings her underwear down her legs, the tiny scrap of it that she's actually wearing, and tosses it behind him. 

"Yeah, okay," she says, as if she doesn't believe him. "You're likely the only man to think so, F.P."

"I take it that means good ol' Hal doesn't do this for you?" He licks a single swipe up her slit and her hips buck up.

She huffs and grunts. " _That's_ what this is about?" 

"That," he says, and presses his fingers into the meaty part of her thigh so hard that she hisses, "and the fact that I  _love_ doin' this for you." 

Before she can respond he presses the flat of his tongue against her clit. Her fingers go to his hair, pull and scratch, holds him there. He doesn't want to go anywhere, anyway, but he lets her control it. When he pushes two fingers into her and curls them, her breath hitches and her hips stutter. 

"I'm gonna -" 

"Do it," he whispers filthily into her wet skin, "come for me, Alice. Come on my mouth."

His voice is low, gravelly, mouth full of her and he guesses that's enough because she's tightening around his fingers and letting out a litany of curses. He keeps swiping his tongue against her clit until she swivels her hips to get away from him. 

She pulls him up her body by the hair, licks into his mouth to taste herself, and goddamn if that's not the hottest thing he's ever been a part of. 

When they pull apart she smirks cheekily at him and says, "you still mad at me?" He nods, jokingly (but not really), and she pouts. "I'm  _sorry_." 

He brings her hand to his throat, lets the thumbnail scrape against his jugular. "I can think of a few ways for you to make it up to me." 

His heart stutters at the downright naughty way her mouth quirks up.

"Let's get to it, then." 

 


End file.
